


like to like

by poalimal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6438931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalimal/pseuds/poalimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>finding an ex in common.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like to like

 

 'i'm not upset,' ginny insists. the backs of her ears are turning scarlet. at the moment they're all neville can see - she refuses to look at him.

'fair enough.' neville is no idiot. he still has a scar on his right calf from the first (and last) time he tried to dictate her emotions to her. 'it just seems as though we were having a good massage--'

' _you_  were having a good massage,' ginny grumbles, as though she hadn't offered.

'--session,' neville adds lightly, 'and now it's over, and i'm not quite sure why.'

ginny rolls over, furrow-faced. looks up at him deeply. he can't help but smile. ginny's eyes drag down to his lips and stick there.

'give us a kiss,' says her face. neville jokingly, exaggeratedly purses his lips. never one for dramatics, ginny shoves herself back off the bed with tangled dignity.

neville blinks down at her. 'ah,' he sits up, 'gin?'

ginny goes red all along the bridge of her nose. ' _i_ will be outside,' she says, leaping to her feet. 'when you feel like talking about this like an adult!'

neville's still not quite clear what he would be being an adult about, precisely, so instead he talks the sweetvine down from the sill, cleans the toilet and kitchen and starts in on dinner.

'personally,' ginny says, sticking her head through the kitchenway, some hours later, 'i would've told you if i'd shagged hannah.' she pauses. 'but it would be weird if we'd shagged, because of you. so i wouldn't've.'

ah. so this all because of how he answered _would you ever have it on with one of our friends?_

ginny forcibly stops rolling up the edge of her dress when she notices neville watching. bothered but trying not to be bothered, then.

'it's just kind of strange,' she mumbles. 'you and dean having me in common.' ah.

'well, technically,' neville says, flipping the algerian bosk, 'you and i have dean in common.' he adds a pinch of peppered asmit and glances back to see what further damage he's done.

ginny's face has cleared up like sun post-rain. huh. 'what do you mean? you and he--? before we ever...?'

neville finds himself smiling, shrugs it away. 'yea,' he says, quite simply. 'this was back in, what, fifth year? he came home with me. he was supposed to stay a few weeks, but. you know.' unexpectedly, it is difficult to pull just one memory out. all hooked in together, aren't they.

'oh?' says ginny. she sidles over to peer at the asparagus, grinning slowly, crookedly at him. a is for apology food - apples and asparagus. 'what for?'

neville pauses. he remembers dean's knees, abruptly. funny and bony and always digging into his sides. 'he had an,' he says, shaking his head clear, 'art thing. symposium or other. it was out near nan's. i suggested it, actually, said it would be easier to go from mine. and also, i don't know. i think i wanted to show him some projects i was working on, too.' greyhash, in particular. excellent hallucinogenic.

also, apparently, for some people: an aphrodisiac.

ginny is very near - she smells of cigarette smoke and honeysuckle. 'did it...did it end badly?' she puts a hand in the middle of his back, tentative. 'is that why you two fell out?'

what? neville flicks the stove off with a wave of his wand, turns into ginny's side to give her his full attention. 'we never fell out, gin,' he says, honestly baffled. he sees dean once or twice a month at the leaky, more if he drops by his shop. where on earth did she get that one from?

'oh yes, you did,' she says, 'you two used to always go off together whenever seamus and petrice--'

'--denise,' neville corrects.

'--whenever seamus and _petrice_  were having a snog,' ginny says. oh, for godric's _sake_. neville floats two plates down from the cupboard without saying anything further, starts doling out the food. sometimes ginny can be a bit ridiculous. the save the date is on the board right beside her! with denise's full name and everything. '--and then sixth year came and it was like you two were invisible walls. no looking, no nothing.'

well...ok. that's--ok. ginny's not wrong, exactly. sixth year had been a bit odd. 'it was barely even a pash, though,' he tries, brain sluggishly churning. 'just a summer thing, really. and then you know with the war on, we just...grew apart.' he smears a side of Prestat Pimento Paste onto his plate - gin can't stand the stuff, says it tastes like anchovies. neville, as it happens, quite likes anchovies.

'anyway, he certainly moved on quickly enough,' he says, chuckling a little. 'to you, even, so all things considered, he couldn't have taken it all that seriously, could he've?' he keeps laughing, even though he's not quite sure when he decided he wasn't going to be nice about this anymore.

gin waves their plates over to the table. the descent is a tad sloppy - a bit of sauce slides off his plate and onto the hardwood.

'y'know, dean told me--,' ginny starts. all right, that's really more than enough.

'i don't want to know what dean told you when you were dating, _merlin_ , gin.' neville's neck is getting hot. what is the point of dragging any of this up? 'just leave it, all right? leave it.'

the food is good, the conversation dismal. ginny does the wash-up without complaint or comment. neville goes to the dark room and has a full uninterrupted hour with his grassy goatfeng. it's terrible. he's got a tension headache by the time he slumps back to their room.

'hisao firecalled,' ginny says. she's squinting down at the quibbler's re-arranging puzzle. 'he wanted to talk to you about lunch later this week.'

'ah,' neville says, standing at the foot of their bed, staring down at his hands. '--thank you.' he needs to clean his teeth, he thinks, inanely.

ginny looks up at him, stares at him for a long moment. 'i shouldn't have brought any of that stuff up,' she says, finally. her hair is long and waved and lovely around her. 'i didn't know, and i kept pressing you. i'm sorry.'

'how could you have known?' neville says, finding his voice. 'i never told you.' never even told himself, come to it. 'i shouldn't have shouted you down like that. that wasn't really...wasn't really fair.'

ginny half-smiles, beckons him close. 'hey,' she murmurs, tugging him down when he leans over her. 'let's not fight again, ok?'

neville hums his way down her stomach. no more fights, hm; sounds lovely.

later: the dark of their room. the silence. gin, with her face pressed against his back, warm and sweet; smelling of his soap. neville can feel her working her way up to say something. he suspects he already knows what about.

'he loved you,' she whispers. 'dean. i think.'

neville doesn't say anything. just raises his head so she knows he's listening.

'i won't bring it up again,' she says, clutching him close. dean was never much for cuddling, really. 'but i just. i thought you should know.'

well. now he knows.

 

 


End file.
